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Medical Ward Theatrics
NCC Medical Ward Like its previous incarnation, this medical ward was designed with the medic in mind, with all the modern advances to make the dirty work of repairs a world easier. It is well lit, the blue and violet metal of the walls and decor is a shade paler here, and the ubiquitous filigree is missing, all to assist in ease of cleaning. Still, the place veritably sparkles. In the furniture, there is a subtle motif of blades and sharp edges, as if to evoke the scalpel of a surgeon, although it is all quite safe. Around two dozen beds, more comfortable than their sharp looks would suggest, fill the medical ward, laid out in a tidy grid, and more can be flipped out of the walls should emergency demand it. A set of tracks on the ceiling mirror the grid of beds, allowing advanced scanning equipment and tolls to be swiveled around to the various beds. Computer terminals and cabinets are molded right into the walls at intervals, and while there are the normal medical security cameras, it appears as if someone has set some of the cameras specifically to watch the cabinets. Windshear shrugs, "Yea some cyborg thing -- some lost Decepticon ship.. I dont remember most of it.. Im still not -- sober I think." He meanders over to a repair table and sits on it. "All I know is Catechisn caught fire, then there was loud earth rock music, some humans fell through a hole. some big Autobot had a gun on Motormaster.. then Americon got torched by that dragon and it exploded and I got this slagging flame ball in my face named Americon.. which made me fall into Catechism.. who was on fire again for some rason." he pauses looking for a moment then continues almost sheepishly, "Then everyone decided to fly the ship into the sun but no one could fly the ship but me -- and I didnt decide to fly it into the sun but I had to fly it in to the sun.. and Executrix and that fireball of a cassettecone rescued me.. aaannd.. here I am.." Backfire enters the Medical Ward, his attention piqued when Catechism's name is thrown around so easily. "Ah, you speak of Mistress Catechism!" the Seeker blares, obviously never maintaining the 'please be quiet for the wounded' rule in the repair shop. Windshear nods, "I fell into her too.. while she was on fire..." Announcement: Announcer: Remember: Don't beg for +noms! Earn them by not sucking! "Please, keep your thoughts on the Mistress' physical attraction to yourself Windshear." Backfire yelps, siding up towards Harrow. "Some of us are gentlemechs in here." Windshear blinds and tries to look serious but it comes out just weird with his face all blackened and scorched right now, "Huh? -- no she was burning..flames on. fire. not onfire..on. fire..." Harrow just lets Windshear babble on while she goes around, collecting tools. "Okay... uhh... Windshear, take my advice and stay off Dark Voids." Evidently she thinks this is just a result of that blasted high grade. And goddamnit, it's Backfire. "Lower your vocalizer! Wait, gentlemechs? Where!" She peers around aimlessly, and sets to work on Windshear's scorch marks. "Why Windshear, you're interested in Lady Catechism?" "Bah, it matters not. Your inclination towards our superior shall remain secret." Backfire mutters towards the wounded Seeker, blinking an optic. Then addressing Harrow, "Why, right before your optics Harrow. It is I, Backfire. Friend to woodland animals and generous soldier in the Decepticon EMPIRE, at your service." The last half is excentuated with a couple of forward circular movements of the wrist as he bends down and bows his head a little. "Whuu? no! No I never said that!! She was on fire Im telling you!" Windshear says and isnt really paying attention to what Harrow is doing to him. Harrow pauses a good solid moment, and laughs at Backfire's little display. This was a bit odd, he was actually acting somewhat chivalrous. "...What exactly are you looking to gain here tonight, in the med ward, huh Backfire?" she asks him, suspicious. "And yes Windshear, I'm sure she was... on fire. No more Voids. Seriously." Sunder enters the Medical Ward in search of Talon Polish. My, his claws have been neglected lately! Windshear starts to sneer, "What i drank has nothing to do with it.. It was a mission earlier tonight and it went wrong... Catechism was set on fire im telling you and then i fell into her after americon crashed ito my face." he forces soem air out of his takes like a sigh, 'You dont beleive me do you? Then explain how I got all this fire damage on me?" "You probably laser'ed yourself in the face," Harrow answers simply, eyeing the Sweep as he enters. Backfire stands at full attention, walking over to a slab and a wounded soldier. Grabbing for a smock behind him, the Seeker straps the dull white cloth around him and grabs for a saw. "Why, what I always do Harrow. Tonight is my volunteer hours in the Medical Ward." he notes, placing a hand on the wounded soldier and grabbing for his med-chart. Holding the clipboard upside down, "Hrm. Damn, looks like this one has to have his arm amputated and replaced." At hearing the word, the wounded soldier protests, but is quickly silenced by a steady arm and a quick injection of sedative. "Hush hush now, Backfire shall make it /all/ better!" Windshear snorts, 'i did not laser myself in the face. What do you call these claw marks on my head then? bah! The report will be out soon enough." He sulks as harrow works on him. Thinking deeply to himself, Backfire places a gloved hand on his chin. Now how did this go again? He had only googled surgery a couple of minutes ago for his inpromptu attempt at impressing Harrow, but all he saw were ads like 'Apply to Devry Online, recieve your medical degree in weeks!' Shaking his head and blinking his optics, Backfire tries to concentrate. Hey, it's an easy amputation ... what could go wrong? Sunder stares at Backfire. "Volunteer...?" he ventures, "Well, that's...nice." He starts buffing the edges of his talons so they stay all nice and sharp. Looking over at Windshear, he notices the face. "What happened to you?" he wonders. Harrow almost doesn't notice Backfire wandering off, until the injured mech protests. She turns, gapes, and rushes over to try and guide Backfire away, "No! No amputee'ing! What volunteer hours? No no, that can't be right, you're not needed in here... go on then, off you go..." She attempts to pry the saw from him, "You're dangerous enough as it is on the battlefield!" Windshear looks at Sunder, "Americon was set on fire by a dragon that exploded and he crashed itno my face and I fell into Catechisn who was already burning on this old decepticon ship that we ended up ditching ito the sun earlier.. and how was yoru day?" "Americon set on fire, again?" Sunder sighs, "Well, nice to see that nothing ever changes. I've had a rather...quiet day. Noticed my talons needed sharpening, so I decided to come in here." Backfire initiates his playlist, preferring to rock out to his favorite tunes while trying to get into the 'groove'. With the heavy music ringing in his audio receptors, he's pretty much tuned out to the world around him. Reaching for a scalpel from the tray, suddenly his hand is grasped by Harrow. Backfire looks up, noticing an intense and passionate expression on her face. Oh Primus, she's finally recognized my ability for compassion! This whole 'dress up as a medic' ploy was a hella lot easier than Motormaster ever suggested! Shutting off the music, the only thing Backfire hears is "You're dangerous enough as it is on the battlefield!". Blast, he thinks to himself. I don't know which she prefers! Is she in love with the generous caring medic me? Or the dashing dangerous combat me? How confusing! "Yes Harrow, now if you're done complimenting my prowess on the field of battle ... I'd like to demonstrate my skill with this scalpel!" Windshear looks at Sunder, "On fire /again/? This is a habit with him?" Then he watches the situation with backfire and harro and simply smirks. The poor mech on the slab looks horrified. Harrow mimics the expression, optics wide. It's not so 'passionate' now. Backfire can't possibly be serious... but Harrow keeps a vice grip on the hand that's wielding that scalpel. "Skill? /Skill/? Nothing in your file shows you have any sort of experience in repairing, so I hope you don't mind my prudence here! If you're so eager to help, I ask that you demonstrate your technique on... say... oh I don't know, Sunder over there." It truly doesn't occur to her that Backfire is attempting to impress her in some manner - he's just being his usual, idiotic self. "Ha, I see your point Harrow." Backfire replies, releasing his grip on the scalpel. "Perhaps I should update my skill profile. I forgot to mention my nunchuku skills, bow hunting skills, computer hacking skills..." Walking off towards Sunder, he gives the Sweep a shrug and 'what do I know' expression. Sunder chuckles. It's obvious to him that Backfire's got a crush on Harrow. He eyes Backfire as the Seeker approaches him. He's finished buffing his talons and he's now rummaging for a bottle of #3 Arcee Pink. Windshear watches them and slowly leans back on the repair table he was sitting on. The DVL is finally working out of his system and hes crashing. Hes trying to remember what why hes there and why his face feels all burnt but he cant recall right now what happened. The second his head is back he's out like a light. Harrow crosses her arms, watching Backfire expectantly. For some reason, she doesn't mind if Sunder is the one who's arm gets lobbed off. "Nunchuku skills, huh..." she smirks, a bit amused now. Windshear is momentarily forgotten... "Yeah, probably the best that I know of." Backfire replies over his shoulder, still looking at Sunder with that same expression. "So, what can the generous and caring volunteer medic do for you today Sweep?" "Why, you can get me some fuel," Sunder says to Backfire. That ought to be the least dangerous way the Seeker can help. Backfire receives a radio message from Harrow: You're up to something... Backfire sends a radio message to Harrow: Yes. I'm up to getting whatever the patient requires. Backfire receives a radio message from Harrow: You are not kind and generous in that manner. You are aiming to glean something here. Out with it. "Why certainly, because I'm such a helpful volunteer." Backfire snorts, walking off towards the ener-tanks. "And did I mention dashing? I'm dashing as well!" Looking around spastically for a container he can transport the fuel in, eyeing an empty container near the back of the stack of random knick-knacks. "One moment Sunder. While you wait, please try to calm Harrow. She appears to be under the influence that I'm trying to gain something from being so gosh darn helpful!" Did I just say gosh? Primus, I make myself want to vomit. Yes, Harrow needs to be calmed, because she's foaming at the mouth here. Not really. She's just standing there, staring down Backfire as he crosses the room. "There is no possible way you're just here to be /helpful/." It is that unlikely. Her gaze falls on Sunder, a death glare. "Shut up," she snaps at him, despite the Sweep not uttering a word yet. Sunder stares wordlessly at Harrow, before going back to polishing his nails. Backfire grabs for the container, leaning over an unused workbench. "Has it ever occured to you that I am exetremely helpful to have around Harrow?" he replies, reaching out to grasp the handle ... just one more inch. Aww blast, I'll have to climb on top of this infernal table. Leaving the ground, he adds "And dashing. Did I mention I'm dashing?" "..." Harrow eventually catches on, and is almost stunned into silence. A sneering grin replaces her shocked expression. "Indulge me, Backfire, just why is it that you believe you're dashing? Has Catechism complimented you recently?" "How fast were you running when someone called you dashing?" Sunder pipes up. "Mistress Catechism said I was dashing?" Backfire exclaims, finally reaching the container. Standing up he pumps a fist into the air, "Aha! Finally, the accredidation I've been Seeking™!" Only problem with hooting and hollering in the med bay, beyond the obvious yelling at by other 'real' medics ... try not to do so on a table with wheels. The sudden burst of excitement sends the table rolling, Backfire instantly assuming a surfer's pose. "Oohhh, help here...need some help!" Well... Sunder probably wasn't going to help, and it looked like Windshear was out cold, so Harrow scrambles to try and catch the runaway table, "Fraggit! Get off! You're being a nuisance here, and waking everyone up!" On the contrary, a few injured mechs are sitting up to watch the rather amusing show. "This does not demonstrate medical skill!" Harrow says, "Someone come evict Backfire from the medical ward, please." "No, but it demonstrates table surfing skill!" Backfire cackles, finding some sort of enjoyment from the random turn of events. With the table coming to a stop, the Seeker hops down and hands the container to Harrow. "Add that to the list!" "Surfing is not allowed in the ward! Check the rule book!" Harrow swipes the container and makes to shove poor, well-meaning (for once) Backfire towards the exit. "Don't you have something to blow up?" Sunder heads for the Sanctum, now that his nails are dry. Perhaps on the way out he can help drag Backfire out? Backfire gives Harrow the best puppy-dog face he can manage while still being elated he just pulled a hang ten in the Medical Ward, and lived to tell the tale. "I didn't mean to." he offers muttering, stutter stepping towards the exit. Swaying an overly dramatic arm up to the doorframe, he pauses ... looking back over his shoulder. His optics pratically cry and ooze with remorse and sadness. Before turning to leave, Backfire says in a loud enough tone for the Dominatrix to hear. "I apologize for my medical follies Harrow ... " It appears as he's going to add something at the end, but just turns away and leaves. Ha, take that Oscars! Harrow ...twitches. Oddly enough, she falls for the act, believing it to be genuine, and instantly feels some guilt. If he was truly trying to help, truly just trying to earn... affection, or what have you, Harrow could've handled it better - but Backfire is an annoying ingrate, so he'll have to try harder! Nonetheless, Harrow frowns after him, and wallows in the guilt trip. Damn him!